Showing posts with label Tradesman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tradesman. Show all posts

Thursday, 18 February 2010

The Paint Job

Music: Let's Make Love and Listen to Death from Above - CSS

I can’t actually believe I suggested that Craig and I go back to his place.  On our first date.  I know I said I wanted to be all Samantha Jones-like about the whole thing, but at that moment I felt surprisingly calm and confident.  It was weird.

Craig tells the taxi driver his address and takes hold of my hand. I wonder if he's nervous too, or if since his recent break up he takes girls home for sex pretty regularly?
(Thinking about it now I doubt it to be honest.  He lives with his parents and if they’re anything like mine, as lovely as they are, their presence in the house is such a passion killer).

The taxi pulls up outside his house a few minutes later. As I climb out, Craig pays the taxi driver which gives me time to take it all in.

The house is pretty big, I think it is detached and it is on a newish estate. I see Craig's white van (that he crashed) and its gaffer-taped wing mirror and smirk to myself, and then catch sight of a sporty looking car which I assume to be Craig’s. I hear the taxi drive off, and feel Craig wrap his arms around me from behind before he kisses me gently on the neck.

“So here we are then,” he says, then takes me by the hand and leads me through the door at the side of the house.

We walk into the brand new kitchen which is all gleaming white surfaces and shiny chrome fixtures and fittings. Before I have chance to take off my coat I am promptly attacked by his two dogs, both old Alsatians who seem desperate to lick me to death. Craig finds this endlessly amusing.

“I think they like you,” he laughs.

Great.  I'm going to stink of Alsation and dog hairs are so not sexy.

“Can I get you a drink or anything?” Craig asks politely.

“Just some water please,” I reply.

I’m already feeling nicely tipsy and I don't want to tip myself over the edge.

We stay chatting in the kitchen for a while.  His dogs attempt to shed all their fur on me whilst Craig busies himself by making sure the house is securely locked up.

I can tell that Craig is nervous now as he is jabbering away for England and seems to be a lot more on edge than earlier in the night. After about ten minutes of fending off the dogs and making nervous conversation, I figure that if I don’t make a move then we will be standing in the kitchen all night. As he finishes his drink, I touch him on the arm and gently say,

“Let’s go upstairs”.

Craig looks at me and pauses before he replies.

“Yeah, OK. Let’s go upstairs.”

Here we go.

I follow Craig up the staircase and he leads me into his bedroom. It is quite a big room and facing the entrance there is another door to an en-suite bathroom. Wow, I am impressed. At least this means I won’t bump into his brother during a mad dash to the loo at 4am. The room is very plain: magnolia walls, white bedding and not a lot in the line of “things”. The only exceptions are a TV on a chest of drawers facing the bed, and a picture of Craig driving a Ferrari which was taken on a track day. I did think this was slightly odd, but then again Craig hasn’t been living back here for very long and he said that he’d recently swapped rooms with his parents. Fair enough, the décor is the least of my concerns right now.

I put my bag down on the bedside table, then turn and move towards Craig who is standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. We start to kiss, and then start to kiss really passionately. He takes off his jumper and I feel his toned body through his shirt underneath. God he has a great body. We rip each other’s clothes off, hands touching everywhere, desperate to feel each other. It feels like how sex looks in the movies. It is so passionate, and so different to the calm and collected removal of clothes before-slipping-under-the-duvet preamble to sex that I experienced with my ex-boyfriend. Craig has a fantastic body. He isn’t too muscular, but he is really toned. His arms are strong and his chest is smooth and sexy and I am really turned on.

We have sex that lasts almost an hour, in different positions, fast and slow. I thought I would be bothered about another man seeing me naked, but as it turns out I didn’t even give it a second thought. I am so wrapped up in the passion and feel so sexy that the fact that another man is staring at my tits doesn’t even enter my head.

As first time sex goes, wasn’t bad. It wasn’t too bad at all. It's true what they say: tradesmen are very handy.  Craig did a slightly weird thing where he closed his eyes occasionally, but I’m hoping this is because he was in sheer ecstasy and not because he was imagining shagging someone else. For me it was good, and I was pleasantly surprised that Craig ventured down south on me too, although bless him, it didn’t really do that much for me. When we’d finished, Craig put his arms around me, and when I didn’t think it could get any better, it did.

He spooned me.

I wasn’t expecting a display of closeness like this, but it was nice.

“Wow,” Craig says as we lie there together. “Thanks for a great night.” And with that, he kisses me on my cheek and nuzzles his face into the back of my neck.

What a great night.

I fall asleep drunk and quite literally knackered.

I had officially been painted and decorated.

Thursday, 4 February 2010

"Trade"

Music: Team Mate - Kaiser Chiefs

It's just another tedious Thursday at work, except this Thursday I have a little secret that no one at work knows about. I do feel a little bit ridiculous as it’s almost like I’m acting like a schoolgirl with an overwhelming crush.

Craig and I are sending each other loads of text messages, and my phone is pinging with a new message every few minutes. He is really sweet, and is asking me loads of questions about how my day’s going, what sort of films and music I like and just general chit chat. It’s ace and I’m loving all the attention, especially as work is pretty dull at the moment. I love how I feel when my heart leaps every time I receive another message from him. I’ve not felt this way for such a long time.

It's just annoying that all my work mates have noticed...


“So what are all these messages you keep receiving?” my colleague Mick asks after my phone beeps for the fifteenth time in an hour. “Are you running some sort of sordid chat line or something? ‘Text 07790 FLIRT to receive smutty messages from horny girls in your area,’” he says laughing.

“No,” I reply whilst trying to hide my blushing cheeks.

“So who is it then?” Mick persists. “Did you meet some hot young stud last weekend? You did, didn’t you!” he announces loudly.

“Well, er, I met someone, yes,” I reply quietly.

“Ooh! Spill!” Mick demands as he wheels his chair over to my desk.

“Well, it’s just a guy I met. He seems nice,” I reply. “He’s a painter and decorator.”

“How old?” Mick quizzes.

“Twenty five,” I reply.

“Ah so he is a hot young stud!” Mick says with relish.

I feel my cheeks burning red whilst Mick demands that I furnish him with all the details.

“So are you going to see him again,” he asks, idly flicking paperclips across my desk.

“Er, maybe.” I reply. “Well, I think so...”

My voice trails off as I see my team leader’s ears have pricked up and he is spinning round in his chair to face me.

“What’s this?” my team leader asks across the office. “Have you been knocking about with a tradesman?”

“Yes. Yes she has,” Mick replies in a voice so loud that the entire office can hear.

Oh please leave me alone the pair of you.

I sink lower into my seat in an effort to deflect the attention, but it completely fails and I end up having to repeat all the salacious details of my sambuca-fuelled rendezvous to my team leader. He absolutely thrives on gossip, especially when it involves sexy young men. Well, he is the only gay man in the office.

“Well then, you’ll have to let me know how it all goes with your new man,” my team leader states once I’ve finished recounting my story. “I think from now on I’m going to refer to him as ‘Trade’,” he says with a pompous tone.

He is such a snob.

I don’t care what they think. Craig is nice.